


Unpartnerly Thoughts and Feelings

by TinoSquint



Series: The Angst in the Episodes [4]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: A lot of Booth wanting Brennan, F/M, Jealous Booth, a little less angst this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 18:12:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11446296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinoSquint/pseuds/TinoSquint
Summary: Booth's actions in Aurora lead both partners to question their relationship. Brennan asks Angela for help interpreting Booth's behavior, and Booth tries to reign in his thoughts.





	Unpartnerly Thoughts and Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is pretty long! It's also the beginning of me trying to work more BB interaction into the series instead of leaving them entirely separate. I hope you enjoy!

Brennan and Angela cross the threshold of Brennan's apartment. "One minute he's hitting on me, the next he's trying to jump the courier's bones," Angela groans.

"Well, you are quite beautiful, so it's logical that he's making sexual advances towards you," Brennan replies.

"Thanks, Bren, but that's not really the point," Angela laughs.

"Well what is the point?"

"It's annoying that he hits on everything with a pulse."

"Are you saying that because you want to sleep with him?"

"What? Brennan, no, you're still missing the point."

* * *

Booth pulls his suitcase through the door, trying to forget his first meal of the day.

" _I bet he's a great skier. His hips and thighs are perfectly developed for strength and maneuverability."_

" _I'm done."_

" _What? No good? You want some cornflakes?"_

He knows Bones isn't great with people, but damn, how can she be that bad with people? He knows she doesn't want to be with him, but she also knows he wants to sleep with her. How can she not realize how sexual that statement is? Or does she do it on purpose, to watch him get jealous?

* * *

"Whatever, that's not really what's important right now. What  _is_ important is whether or not you finally slept with Booth."

"Why would I have slept with Booth? We weren't even sharing a room."

"News travels fast, Bren. We all know what you said to Goodman when he told you why you were going on this trip with Booth. 'Are you saying I should take this opportunity to have sex with Agent Booth on a field trip?'"

"Well, Angela, I didn't say I was  _going_  to have sex with Booth, I just asked if that was what he was implying I  _should_  do."

"If you thought he was implying that it's because you were thinking about doing it."

"That is not at all logical."

"That's psychology, Bren."

"I don't believe in psychology, it's a soft science."

"You don't believe in it because it's about feelings and you don't want to talk about those."

* * *

He leaves his suitcase by the door, knowing he won't bother to unpack tonight, as he walks to the kitchen to find something to eat for dinner. As much as he misses being with Bones already, Booth does  _not_ miss that small town. It seemed to him like someone new was trying to get into his partner's pants every 30 seconds. He shudders as he remembers that one of them may have succeeded.

_The morning after he lost the park ranger in the woods, Booth sits and waits for Brennan at breakfast. After twenty minutes pass, he calls her room to make sure she's awake. When she doesn't answer, he doesn't know what to do. He begins drumming on his legs with his hands as he stares at his eggs, which continue to get colder. "Why isn't she down here?" he thinks. He sighs and takes a bite of his eggs. "Great, my eggs are disgusting and I don't have Bones to keep me company. What's got her occupied so late this morning?" When the thought occurs to him, he fork falls faster than his jaw does. His mind begins to race with thoughts he wishes he never had. "Any one of those dudes from the bar last night. Probably the doctor," he thinks to himself. "He's the only one smart enough for her." Deciding he's had enough cold eggs for the day, he walks out to the SUV to wait for Bones there, hoping the change of scenery will change the trajectory of his thoughts._

Booth shakes his head to clear those thoughts again. He pulls a box of pasta from a cabinet as he sets a pot of water to boil. "No way she slept with someone when we didn't know who was the murderer," he says to himself. But then he has another memory:  _"Why the sudden interest in my morning habits, Booth?"_

He knows Bones doesn't like to share, but why would she get so defensive if she didn't have something to hide. "Dammit," he says, slamming his palm into the counter. Then he remembers that he has no right to be angry at her, even if she did sleep with someone that night. They're just partners. And  _he_  is sleeping with someone for God's sake. "You can't get jealous every time someone is interested in her, Booth. You've seen her, you know why they're interested. Hell, it's the same reason  _you're_ interested," he thinks to himself. "But they're only interested in what they see on the outside," he corrects, "you're interested in way more than that. You're interested in what's underneath her hot body and her academic exterior, in what you've seen glimpses of since she became your partner."

* * *

"Angela, can you help me figure out what Booth's behavior means?" Brennan asks as she and her best friend sit on her bedroom floor, unpacking her bag from the work trip with Booth.

Angela smirks as she hands Brennan a top. She wants to mention that Brennan doesn't seem too opposed to psychology as long as it isn't being used on her, but that would scare her away. "Sure, sweetie," she says softly. "What'd he do while you two were away—and  _not_ having sex—out in the woods?"

"He was just acting strangely. He seemed much different than he was when he usually is when we're working a case here."

"Well you're gonna need to be more specific if you want my help, Bren."

Brennan sighs before replying. "Well," she begins, "there was the breakfast thing." She pauses for a moment before elaborating. "I didn't come down to breakfast after we were out at the bar and he seemed upset with me for some reason."

"Did you two have plans to meet for breakfast?"

"Not really. I mentioned that  _maybe_ I would cover his breakfast because he had a $50 a day limit, whereas I had no limit, but I don't really think that constitutes a plan."

"Maybe not in your mind, but that may have seemed like a plan to Booth, sweetie."

"But I think he may have just been upset that he had to pay for his own meal."

Angela sighs, trying to figure out how to get the best picture of what actually happened so she can interpret Booth's actions for her friend. "Do you remember what he said after you didn't come down for breakfast?"

"Of course I do, Angela, I have an eidetic memory. You know that." Brennan looks exasperated as she replies to her friend. She almost regrets asking for Angela's help, but knows that if she didn't, she'd simply be frustrated with Booth.

"Then set the scene, sweetie, tell me what happened. And  _just_  the facts, give me the actual words of the conversation, not your interpretation of whether or not you had plans."

Brennan shoots her friend a dirty look before replying, "We were walking through the woods with the Sheriff to track the Park Ranger. And he said, ' _You didn't come down for breakfast, Bones.'_ I told him I wasn't hungry and apologized that he had to pay for his own meal. Then he said, ' _Called your room, there was no answer.'_  At this point, I was frustrated with his inquisition into how I spent my morning, so I said, ' _Why the sudden interest in my morning habits, Booth?'_ "

"What happened next?"

"He found the button he left to mark his place the night before, so we went back to talking about the case."

Angela looks perplexed for a moment, then asks, "Bren, didn't you say this was the morning after you two went out dancing at the bar?"

"Yes. Why does that matter?" Brennan asks, looking confused. Angela, on the other hand, looks smug now.

"You told me what happened that night at the bar. Every single man in town was dancing with you, hitting on you. Booth was jealous. I think he thought you may have slept with one of them and that's why you didn't meet him for breakfast. Thought you were still getting your rocks off with Charlie the overnight guy."

"What do rocks have to do with this?"

"It's an expression, Bren. He thought you were having sex that morning."

"That's ridiculous. First of all," Brennan huffs, "I would never sleep with a man in a town that small when we still didn't know who was the murderer. Second of all, Booth has no reason to be jealous even if I  _did_ sleep with one of them. He has a girlfriend."

"Having a girlfriend doesn't make him immune to jealousy, Bren. I already told you, I think their relationship is on the way out and I  _know_  he has feelings for you."

"I still think he just didn't want to pay for his own meal," Brennan deflects.

"Whatever you say, sweetie. What else was he doing that was so weird?"

* * *

Booth tries to remind himself why he can't let himself fall for Bones. It's almost working until he remembers how it felt to dance with her that night in the bar. Thinking about having her in his arms, Booth can't wipe the smile off his face. Feeling her laugh while they danced gave him the best high he's had since he quit gambling.

"God," he says to himself. "I feel better after dancing with her than I do after sleeping with anyone else since I've met her." With this realization, he takes a swig of the glass of wine he poured himself with dinner. He can't fall for her, he's fighting so hard not to. No matter how hard he fights, though, he knows it's a losing battle.

* * *

"He was weird when we went out cause you told us to have a drink and some fun," Brennan says.

"Again, Bren, you need to give me more to go on than just 'weird.' What was he doing?" Angela responds.

Brennan shoots her friend a dirty look before responding, "He had his shirt unbuttoned practically halfway down his chest."

"He was in a bar, Bren, do you expect him to go in there full suit and tie?"

"Of course not, Angela, I just don't understand why he needed to unbutton it so far. The first button or two would have served the same purpose, just without showing so much skin."

"So now you have a problem with Booth showing skin?" Angela smirks. "And I thought Booth was the only one in this relationship who had jealousy issues."

"What do you mean  _relationship_ , Ange? Booth and I are not in a relationship. We are just partners," Brennan says, glaring at her friend.

"The word relationship doesn't need to mean a romantic relationship. You should know that, Miss Literal. A partnership is a type of relationship." Angela notes, but doesn't comment on, the fact that Brennan didn't deny her jealousy.  _This is progress_ , she thinks. "If all he did in the bar was unbutton his shirt a little, then he wasn't being weird, Bren."

"That wasn't all he did; he sat at the bar while I was dancing until all of a sudden he was up and cutting in. He looked almost angry when he asked the sheriff if he could cut in."

"How many guys did you dance with that night again?"

"Three. Charlie, the murderer, and the sheriff."

"That would be why he looked upset and why he cut in. He was jealous then, too, sweetie."

"I don't understand why you're so convinced he would be jealous, Ange."

"Okay, what'd he say when he cut in? Explain the conversation to me and maybe I can give you some more concrete evidence that you'll believe," Angela says as she moves to sit on Brennan's bed. They have finished unpacking and her back is beginning to ache from sitting on the floor.

Brennan moves to join Angela on the bed as she recounts her conversation with Booth:  _"What happened to your shirt?"_

" _Well, we're in a bar. It's a look."_

" _Everybody is pumping me."_

" _Sorry?"_

" _For information on the case."_

" _Bones, they're only pretending to be interested in the case."_

" _Why?"_

" _They're hitting on you."_

" _Are you sure?"_

" _Yes, I'm sure. You're the hottest thing this town has seen in a long time."_

When Brennan finishes telling her story and looks up, Angela's mouth is wide open. "Why are you looking at me like that, Ange?" she asks.

"Sweetie. I'm a bit shocked that even you can't see the jealousy dripping off of Booth in that encounter. Oh, and by the way, he was totally right—they were all hitting on you."

"I do not understand how his actions indicate jealousy," Brennan blusters.

"Shouldn't you be able to identify the anthropological markers or whatever of jealousy?"

* * *

Thinking about dancing with her reminds Booth of something else. He suddenly realizes how possessive he was of her this trip. He knows he isn't doing so great with the whole "treat her like a partner" thing in general, but this trip he was exceptionally bad.

When he sifts through his memories, though, he can't blame himself. Every man in that town was ready to jump her bones, and she wasn't exactly turning them down herself. "And she doesn't have," the voice in his head pipes in. "She's single, she can have sex with whoever she wants." Booth's fists clench at the thought of her in bed with someone, with someone  _else_.

As soon as the men in that town laid eyes on her, they started trying to get in her pants. The moment they met the sheriff he had asked her out. The memory begins to replay itself in his mind:  _"Suddenly I wish I was FBI."_  If it had stopped at that, Booth would have found it charming. He knows he's lucky to work with someone as beautiful and intelligent as Bones. But the sheriff didn't stop there.  _"Do you have dinner plans?" he asks Brennan as she's getting up to leave. Booth puts his arm around her waist and guides her out of his office. "We're working," he says over his shoulder, tossing a binder at the sheriff._

Looking back, Booth honestly isn't sure how he managed to escape that one without getting an earful from Brennan. Actually, now that he thinks about it, she didn't really object to any of his possessiveness this trip. She fought his protectiveness when she missed breakfast, but that was it. "She didn't even mind when I cut in to dance with her at the bar," he says to himself. And then his mind is back in that moment. He couldn't sit there and watch every man in town put his paws all over his partner.  _"Thought you could use a break," he says as he takes Brennan into his arms and moves with her, effortlessly, across the dance floor. "What happened to your shirt?" she asks. When she does, Booth can't help but puff out his chest slightly at the fact that she noticed._   _"Well, we're in a bar. It's a look."_

His brain skips ahead to his favorite moment.  _"Check out the competition," he says as he dips her all the way backwards so she can see Diane sitting at the bar. As he talks, his heart flutters at the feel of her pressing into him as she arches her back. His mind wanders, wondering how that action would feel under different circumstances._ In the moment, he had to reel himself in quickly to keep her from feeling his train of thought, but now he can linger. He can, but he shouldn't, so he tries to push his thoughts forward.

Regardless of his possessiveness and her apparent sexual taunt at breakfast, the case went well and their partnership felt solid. He still regrets brushing her off last case, especially after she gave him his own Jeffersonian ID. He hopes that he made up for it when he gave her a gun when they went to arrest Dr. Rigby.

He flashes back to that memory, smiling.  _"Moments like this are why I need a gun," she says before they enter the room to look for Rigby. He knows she's right, so he bends down and gives her the gun he has attached to his ankle. "Where else do you keep them?" she asks. The question is innuendo-filled and he'd love to comment if they weren't trying to arrest a murderer. "That is for self defense, so don't just go blasting away in there," he says, ignoring the innuendo and focusing on the important matter: arresting a murderous cannibal._

That time, he isn't even sure if she noticed the sexual nature of her comment. In this case, her ignorance of colloquialisms seemed to extend to those of a sexual nature. He chuckles at the memory as he moves to the sink to wash his dishes from dinner.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Angela is leaving Brennan's apartment for the night. She's frustrated that her friend appears to be purposely ignoring all the potential and the sexual tension between her and Booth. "Eventually the tension will become too much and spill over," Angela says to herself. "The question is just when, and I hope it's sometime soon."

As Brennan shuts the door behind Angela, her mind races through everything Angela had said tonight. "Shit," she says. "He really did think I slept with someone that night." She walks to the kitchen and pours herself a glace of wine, attempting to slow her thoughts and her heart with the alcohol. "If he was that upset about me sleeping with someone, he must really be jealous. Although, that could just be because he thought there was a chance I slept with a murderer." Her attempt at rationalization cannot fool even her. She knows the jealousy wasn't tied to the murder; it was just tied to her. She sighs as she takes a sip of wine, sitting down on the couch, her shoulders curling in a bit.

All his behavior makes sense, every weird thing he did all trip, if she accepts the fact that he's jealous. That he's jealous of the fact that she might be interested in other men. Truthfully, she didn't really need Angela to explain it to her. Having Angela's opinion made it harder for her to fight the conclusion, but she didn't need it.

She suspected that he was jealous throughout the case. Turning down dinner invitations, putting his arm around her waist, cutting in on the dance floor—she noticed all of it. She thought he was jealous. But because she's an empiricist who isn't very good at reading people, she decided to test the theory. Her mind rolls back to their breakfast conversation from that morning:  _"You know, I'm going to come back up here this winter. Charlie says the skiing's great," she says. He smiles as he replies, "Oh, so it's Charlie." She's confused that he's smiling, not acting jealous, but she doesn't let it show. "Yeah, the overnight guy," she replies. "I know who he is," Booth laughs. Brennan decides to push a little further, to see if Booth will react to something more sexual. "I bet he's a great skier. His hips and thighs are perfectly developed for strength and maneuverability," she says._ _"I'm done," Booth says, pushing his plate away._ _"What? No good? You want some cornflakes?" Brennan asks, offering him a bite of her own breakfast. The irony is not lost on her that she's ruined his appetite with sexual innuendo and is now offering him the food designed to be so bland it would quell masturbatory urges._

She smiles at the memory, proud of her ability to test a theory without giving it away. She pauses for a moment when she realizes that she's happy about the fact that he's jealous, too. She shouldn't be happy about that. Regardless of that, she remembers that Booth thinks she slept with someone during the case. She doesn't know why, but she doesn't want him to think that. She doesn't know what to do to correct his assumption, though.

* * *

In a better mood than when he first arrived home, Booth allows himself one of his favorite activities after a case. He runs through all the simple, mundane memories that he and Bones made together during the case. He realizes she probably doesn't remember most of them the way he does, but that doesn't ruin it for her. He enjoys being around her. He wishes they could be more, but he doesn't think anything could ruin spending time together, just the two of them.

His mind lingers on one moment, after they got to Washington State but before they reached Aurora.  _They were driving towards the small town, discussing his seriously low spending limit. "You're a smart ass, you know that?" he says, looking away from the road momentarily to look at her. "Objectively I'd say I'm very smart, although it has nothing to do with my ass," she replies seriously._

He loves when she does that, when she doesn't understand a simple phrase and manages to look adorable while she completely misses the point. At first, he found it annoying, but he's beginning to find it endearing. "God," he says to himself, "you're so far gone, Booth."

Laughing at the moment, his brain switches gears slightly. His brain focuses on her ass. He finds himself replaying memories of her walking in front of him, staring at her ass. He feels his arousal stirring and snaps out of his reverie. "Get it together, Booth. You can't sit here fantasizing about her ass, fantastic as it may be. She's your partner,  _and_  you're with Tessa. You need to treat her like your partner, even if it's just in your thoughts." He walks to his bathroom in order to get ready for bed, eager to put this case behind him and hopeful that they'll catch another soon.

* * *

Although she isn't entirely sure why, Brennan decides to send Booth a text. All she knows is that she needs to correct his assumption and she doesn't think that can wait until they catch another case. She goes through her nighttime routine, washing her face and putting on her pajamas, writing the text in her mind. As she climbs into bed, she grabs her phone and types the message:  _Hi Booth. Angela has informed me that you most likely think I slept with someone, likely Charlie the overnight guy, the night we went to the bar. She thinks that is the reason you were so upset and nosy about the fact that I did not come down for breakfast that morning. I feel obligated to let you know that your assumption is incorrect; I did not have sexual intercourse with anyone during our case in Aurora._

She stares at her phone for five minutes before deciding whether or not to sign the message. She decides not to, feeling that simplicity is best in this scenario, and hits send. She wants to sleep, but decides to wait for his response before going to sleep. She doubts he'll be in bed yet. He must have needed to stop to eat something when they got back, especially considering he barely touched his breakfast.

* * *

As Booth is about to climb into bed, his phone dings, indicating that he has a text message. He looks down and sees it's from Bones, which is odd. They don't typically talk between cases. As he opens the message, his face drains of color. Even though he knows he's caught, he can't help but laugh at just how  _Bones_  the message is, knowing Angela definitely did not help her write it. "Shit," he mumbles. "I was really hoping she wouldn't catch on. I didn't realize she'd call in Angela for scenario-interpretation backup." His thoughts race as he tries to figure out how to respond. He decides to go for something safe.

He types out his message:  _Hey Bones. I was just worried about ya, that's all. It's none of my business who you do or do not sleep with. When you didn't answer, I just got worried that you weren't safe. There was a murderer on the loose, after all._

As he hits send, he hopes this message will effectively diffuse the situation.

* * *

Brennan feels her phone vibrate in her hand with Booth's response. Despite the fact that is response is plausible, she can't shake the feeling that he's lying. She decides to let him get away with it, though, not wanting to bring any more awkwardness into the partnership. That was her intention behind her text message in the first place. She wants to keep their working relationship clear.

_Although I understand that sentiment, I want to note that I do not need your protection. Ask the Homeland Security officer you had arrest me in the airport; I'm more than capable of defending myself._

She hits send and then turns off her phone, not wanting to keep herself awake talking to Booth all night. Despite her desire to sleep, her comment about the airport reminds her of Guatemala and stirs another memory.  _"What took you took you to Guatemala? Ecotourism?" she laughs. "I went to shoot somebody through the heart from 1,500 feet," he says before turning to walk away from her._

She shudders at the memory. She can't believe she made light of his time as a sniper  _again._  Although, to be fair, this time she had no idea that was the reason he was in Guatemala. With this thought, though, she updates her mental tally. She knows of two people that Booth has killed: Farid Masruk and someone in Guatemala. On the other hand, she and Booth have caught the killers of Gemma Arrington, Cleo Eller, Nestor Olivos, and Hamid Masruk. Dr. Rigby means another tally in the win column. She still isn't sure whether she should count Hamid considering they hadn't arrested his killer; Booth needed to shoot him. She would count it, but she doesn't fully understand Booth's sense of morality, so she can't be sure if he does.

She knows the list of people he's killed is much longer than two, but she's glad that she's helping lengthen the other side of the tally chart. She falls asleep thinking of Booth and of how many more kills he'll tell her about. She doesn't know why, but she wants him to trust her with his struggles.

* * *

As Booth reads her message, he laughs. Even through text, her banter keeps him on his toes. He thinks he managed to escape from this predicament, but knows he needs to be careful moving forward. He sends her a final goodnight message and puts his phone down on his bedside table.

He lies down, grateful that their partnership seems solid. Slowly, he thinks they're moving towards friends. Now, they just need to stop pushing each other away whenever they get the chance.

He needs to keep his possessiveness, protectiveness, and jealousy in check if he wants to keep things moving the way they are. He may have gotten away with a lie this time, but he knows Bones is too smart for it to work again.

As his brain follows this track, he remembers Tessa and sighs, running both hands down his face. She's too smart to fall for this too. He knows that soon she's going to end things because she can sense he's not invested. Part of him is grateful that he feels the end coming soon. He feels like shit over the fact that he's stringing Tessa along when he knows he wants Bones. The other part of him, though, keeps holding out hope that eventually his desire for Brennan will wane and he'll be happy with Tessa. She's smart, beautiful, and generally way out of his league; he knows he  _should_  be happy with her.

Booth falls asleep trying to figure out whether he can find a way to turn "should" into his reality.


End file.
